Monthly Archives: March 2020

Online Poetry Workshop

Posted on 2020/03/31 by Bartholomew Barker

  We just finished a global poetry workshop with Google Hangouts and it was a success. There were only three poets but we had representatives from both hemispheres so I was enthused. All the poetry was strong and the reviews … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , | 7 Comments

Our Nocturne

Posted on 2020/03/25 by Bartholomew Barker

Our Nocturne Like Endymion, I worshipped Selene— my perfect muse— enticing yet unobtainable, and then you landed. Our time together— brief as a shooting star— concludes with this dance— before morning carries us apart. But we’ll still see the same … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | 11 Comments

I could use some help

Posted on 2020/03/23 by Bartholomew Barker

I firmly believe that best way to improve one’s poetry is to get feedback from other poets. I’ve been facilitating a monthly Living Poetry workshop for about ten years now and we’ve recently had to shift our meetings online due … Continue reading →

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The Omelet

Posted on 2020/03/21 by Bartholomew Barker

The Omelet I unbroke that rotten egg right before it dropped into the bowl thus saving the omelet. It was just a fevered dream that my fellow voters insisted they loved the smell of sulfur and black spots in the … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | 9 Comments

March 12th

Posted on 2020/03/16 by Bartholomew Barker

March 12th Purple confetti on my car as if the dogwoods are celebrating the squishy ground but the birds are singing too loud, too early. I was up late partying with the trees.   (Wrote this one at a little … Continue reading →

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The Luster of Gold

Posted on 2020/03/10 by Bartholomew Barker

The Luster of Gold “God does not play dice.” Albert Einstein on Quantum Mechanics I order another glass of wine after calculating the odds my date will be late for dinner. While at the bar my phone jiggles and I … Continue reading →

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Lost at Home

Posted on 2020/03/03 by Bartholomew Barker

The walls are comforting. They haven’t moved but the furniture is half gone. The echoes knock a sick spot in my stomach. I won’t miss the television. The couch can be replaced— but not you. Take the pots and pans, … Continue reading →

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | 5 Comments